Harry Potter: Runaway Children
by InSilenceSheDwells
Summary: Harry runs away from Dursleys at six. By wishing and accidental magic he ends up in London in the care of two Squibs. For full summary, look inside. Warnings listed inside. Rated M for future language, violence, non-graphic sexual content.
1. Prologue

**Runaway Children**

**Summary: **Under-fed, suffering from malnutrition and injuries, abused and unloved, Harry's had enough. When Vernon beats Harry once again, he runs away. By wishing and accidental magic, he apparates all the way to the streets London at the age of six. He ends up in the care of two young squibs, kicked out by their pureblood families. Later on some other Squibs and Muggleborns are added to the pack. Harry will not be anything like Dumbles had imagined when he dropped Harry at the Dursleys!

**Warnings:  
**Abuse  
Violence**  
**Not-Growing-Up-with-the-Dursleys!Harry  
Runaway!Harry fic  
Independant!Harry  
Grey/Darkish!Harry  
Non-puppet!Harry  
Metamorphmagus!Harry  
Street!Harry - Manipulative-Dumbledore – AU

**Rating: **M for (future) language and violence. Some sexual content (later on). Nothing _graphic_, though.

**Pairing: **None yet. Future Pairing not yet decided on. Slash or Het not yet decided.

**Beta: **Still none. Anyway, if someone wants to beta, drop me a message. Otherwise I'll search for one soon.

**Note: **English is only my second language. I am certain I have made or will make some mistakes and stupid errors _somewhere_. Feel free to point them out so I can change them - just don't troll and/or flame, 'kay? I, like almost everyone, am fond of reviews. I prefer (constructive) critic though. While it is nice to hear someone loves the story, I'd still like to know what I can improve to make it better. While it's a bit less nice to hear someone hates my story, I still prefer to know _why_ people hate it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, nor claim any kind of ownership on the original material, referenced in this work. I do not expect, nor will accept any payment or compensation for this work, as it is being done in the nature of _fan_fiction. Anything you recognize is bound to be Rowling's work or coincidence with fanfiction someone else wrote. I have, to my knowledge, not borrowed/'stolen' plotlines or characters from other fanfic authors. If I borrow something, I will place a note somewhere - either in the disclaimer or in an Author's Note.

**AN: No, this does not mean I abandon Harry Potter's Revolution. Don't worry, whatever few readers I may have. **

_**Prologue – Running Away from the Dursleys**_

In his drunkenness, Vernon stumbled through the hallway, crashing straight into the wall. It was at that moment that he saw the little brat that was his nephew, and decided in his drunken rage that he was to blame for everything – was that not what Pet always told him? _The boy is a good-for-nothing freak, just like his parents_. Oh yes, Petunia was quite fierce in the hate she felt for her late sister and 'that no-good husband of her', and the only feeling she had for the whole Magical World, was pure loathing. The brat was one of _them_, as Pet often said. Vernon had to agree. The freak had never been normal, now had he? He had always been different. And hadn't Petunia said that those… those _freaks of nature, _those thrice-damned _witches and wizards_ were capable of just about everything. They just had no respect for normal people like them, now had they? And since the _brat_ was one of them, it applied to him as well. So of course he was to blame for everything – he caused it, didn't he?

It didn't register with Vernon that the boy's strange behaviour was because of them, Pet and he himself. The boy sometimes stole food, but not out of nefarious purposes, like Petunia claimed, but because they truly fed him too little. The boy cowered, instead of standing proudly like Dudders, because he would be struck if he dared show any pride, any courage. The boy looked scrawny and small, because he underfed and lived in a cupboard under the stairs. The boy wasn't impolite, in fact he was much more polite than Dudley Dursley would ever be – a fact that never registered with the Dursleys. The boy was unnaturally quiet, because he had soon learned that speaking was of little use. Because he had learnt the consequences of speaking out of turn – and anything but 'yes, Uncle' or 'yes, Aunt' after they had ordered him to do anything, was out of turn. The toys were always broken by Dudley, not Harry – for how would Harry have been able to? He never was even allowed to _touch _them. But because Dudders was 'just like a little angel' and clearly The Perfect Boy, everything he did was the right thing, wasn't it? Everything he said had to be true, after all. No, Dudley was not to blame. Ever. Everything was to blame on Harry.

So when his company had lost over half a million pounds in a year, it could be no one's fault but Harry's – and so, when Vernon had come home late drunk and crashed into the wall, he decided in his drunken rage to punish the six-year-old boy for what he had done.

He dragged the boy from the cupboard that served as his 'room' and woke him up with a fierce blow to his shoulder. The boy had groaned as the pain hit him, which had prompted Vernon in punishing his nephew more thoroughly. Blow after blow landed on the small heap of human flesh that slightly resembled a small boy. Vernon screamed loudly at the boy and lifted him up with one hand. Petunia had woken up from the loud noise and yelled downstairs towards Vernon.

"Is everything okay there, Vernon? That… freak didn't give you problems again, did he?"

Vernon cursed softly and dropped the boy in his shock. He immediately replied. "No, nothing, Pet, just hurt my toe." He yelled back.

No matter how much she hated her nephew, she would not condone this. Yes, certainly, she had given that good-for-nothing brat a spank or smack sometimes, but she had never _beaten him up_ like Vernon was doing right now.

Harry had immediately crept up and stumbled towards the door, despite the pain he was in and his obvious injuries. He knew that he had only one chance to get away.

It took a while – a few seconds, perhaps ten – before Vernon realized that the boy was gone. He immediately turned, just to see the boy reaching the door and pulling it open, with the greatest difficulty. Vernon cursed loudly and bellowed. "BOY! Where the _hell_ do you think you're going?" The boy did not react but ran outside instead, stumbling on his way towards… well, towards wherever he would be free from the Dursleys.

The pain, which he had tried to ignore as much as possible to get away from his uncle, caught up with him and he staggered. '_I need to get away', _he kept repeating in his head, even as he fell on the street. '_I need a place to get away from Uncle Vernon.'_ He crept up, with much difficulty and managed to walk three steps before falling down again. '_I wish…' _he thought as he looked up to the stars in the sky, '_I wish I was free.' _At the moment his head should have collided with the street, he felt a spinning feeling in his body, as if someone was turning him inside out and upside down, then spinning him a few turns before letting him go. He looked around and in his dizziness everything around him was spinning indeed. As he shut his eyes to reign in the feeling of nausea, he did not see that his surroundings faded and changed into something else. He did not hear the loud, popping noise, because all he heard was his heart, pumping blood through his body at a speed he feared his veins would burst. When his feet hit solid ground again, he staggered again, fell to the ground and lost his consciousness even before his body hit the ground.

The first thing he felt as he woke up was not pain, or fear, as one might have expected. No. The first thing Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World and Boy-Who-Lived – although he himself was unaware of these neat little facts – felt when he woke up was a sense of freedom he had never before experienced. No more Dursleys. Never.

Immediately after this, his hunger and pain caught up with him, causing a sense of fear, panic even, to flood over him. What good was freedom if he was dead? He tried to move his body, slowly, carefully. As far as he could feel, his head was fine – apparently it hadn't hit the ground too hard - or his neck, but when he tried to move his left arm, a sharp pain shot through him. Memories flooded over him, and he remembered how Vernon had been drunk again the day before – he assumed it was a new day, even though he was uncertain how much time had passed since he had fainted.

It was only at that moment that his eyes shot open and that he took in his surroundings. He was sure he had never been here before – it was not part of the neighbourhood he grew up in, because Harry knew every inch of that neighbourhood due to his cousin's favourite activity: Harry Hunting.

A new feeling of dizziness came over him, and he felt how his stomach asked for food. Loudly.

He tried to get back to his feet, but almost fell over on the first try. Only after he had crept towards the nearest wall, he managed to get back up. His body hurt from stiffness and more serious injuries. As he once again tried to move his left wrist, he felt another sharp pain going through him – enough to nearly fall down to the ground just _again_. 'Broken, probably', Harry thought bitterly. It wouldn't be the first time, either. He had broken his left ankle once when he fell from a tree his cousin and his friends had chased him into. One of the branches – unfortunately the one he had been sitting on – broke and fell down, and so did Harry. Falling down in an awkward position, he had his ankle bended in a direction normally impossible. It had taken three hours to convince his relatives that something was wrong, despite the clear physical evidence – and then another three hours before they could speak a doctor in the nearest hospital. The doctor told him to be more careful when playing around.

He had also broken his right wrist twice. Once when he had tried to protect a little girl in the neighbourhood from Dudley and his gang, and once when Vernon had been in a drunken rage not so different from the one that caused this broken wrist. That was the only time Harry had ever seen Petunia angry with Vernon. Of course they hadn't told the doctors how it had broken, or he wouldn't have been living with his relatives until yesterday. Despite all pain, Harry felt happier than he had ever before. He now was free from the Dursleys!


	2. Chapter 1: Squibs to the Rescue!

**Runaway Children**

**Summary: **Under-fed, suffering from malnutrition and injuries, abused and unloved, Harry's had enough. When Vernon beats Harry once again, he runs away. By wishing and accidental magic, he apparates all the way to the streets London at the age of six. He ends up in the care of two young squibs, kicked out by their pureblood families. Later on some other squibs and Muggleborns are added to the pack. Harry will not be anything like Dumbles had imagined when he dropped Harry at the Dursleys!

**Warnings:  
**Abuse  
Violence**  
**Not-Growing-Up-with-the-Dursleys!Harry  
Runaway!Harry fic  
Independant!Harry  
Grey/Darkish!Harry  
Non-puppet!Harry  
Metamorphmagus!Harry  
Street!Harry - Manipulative-Dumbledore – AU

**Rating: **M for (future) language and violence. Some sexual content (later on). Nothing _graphic_, though.

**Pairing: **None yet. Future Pairing not yet decided on. Slash or Het not yet decided.

**Beta: **Still none. Anyway, if someone wants to beta, drop me a message. Otherwise I'll search for one soon.

**Note: **English is only my second language. I am certain I have made or will make some mistakes and stupid errors _somewhere_. Feel free to point them out so I can change them - just don't troll and/or flame, 'kay? I, like almost everyone, am fond of reviews. I prefer (constructive) critic though. While it is nice to hear someone loves the story, I'd still like to know what I can improve to make it better. While it's a bit less nice to hear someone hates my story, I still prefer to know _why_ people hate it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, nor claim any kind of ownership on the original material, referenced in this work. I do not expect, nor will I accept any payment or compensation for this work, as it is being done in the nature of _fan_fiction. Anything you recognize is bound to be Rowling's work or coincidence with fanfiction someone else wrote. I have, to my knowledge, not borrowed/'stolen' plotlines or characters from other fanfic authors. If I borrow something, I will place a note somewhere - either in the disclaimer or in an Author's Note.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Squibs to the Rescue!  
**

Harry kept his right arm to the wall, trying to keep himself from falling again. He slowly moved in the direction of the alley's end, his eyes fixed on the wall. Everything was blob-like and his vision was unfocused, and the left part of his pair of glasses was broken, making it even harder for Harry to see anything. With every step, every move he made, his body seemed to explode in pain. His thoughts were clouded, all his focus was directed on leaving this alley. Not that he had _anywhere_ to go to – or even knew were he was. He did not know or think about what he was doing, or why – he had simply set his goals on leaving this alley, without any specific reasons or purposes – he simply needed to focus himself on _something_ to prevent losing consciousness. The pain had now partially numbed his body, clouded his thoughts and greatly limited his sight – and his movement. With his glasses half-broken his sight was limited already, but the amount of pain and the loss of blood made him nearly blind.

As a result of this, all Harry saw was a variety of moving, colored blobs, turning and spinning, going everywhere. He was dizzy and the emptiness of his stomach gave him a feeling of nausea.

Focused only on the wall next to him, Harry misstepped and fell down almost immediately, in spite of all his attempts to stay on his feet.

In his fall he accidentally took a half-filled garbage bin wit him. The bin clattered on the ground with much noise, then bounced up slightly, now hitting the wall with a noise at least as loud as before. What rubbish had been in the bin, was now spread over the alley, splattered on the walls – and on Harry. The bin rolled away from the wall and hit Harry's feet.

Not far away from the alley Harry had been trying to leave, unsuccessfully, two girls had heard the noise caused by the clattering bin.

They looked at each other. "What the _hell_ was that?!" the youngest of two yelled, surprised by the sudden noise. The other shrugged. "No fuckin' idea, Vicky. Reckon we should look?"

'Vicky' nodded. "Sure thing, Ellie."

The older girl groaned. "Do not call me 'Ellie', _Tori_, my name is Lisa and you know it."

"Well, actually, it's Elisabeth, Ellie." The younger girl winked. "But fine. You don't call me 'Tori' or 'Toria', and I won't call you 'Ellie' or 'Beth' or any variation of it. Deal?"

Victoria hated her name about as much as Elisabeth did. Courtesy of their inbred, pure-blooded, bigoted parents – as a scion of a _proper, pure-blood family_ she should have a _proper _name. Victoria Lucretia Goyle.

At least, that had been the case until they were kicked out and disowned by their own parents for being non-magical – squibs, as they were called. Well, she wanted _nothing_ to do with them anymore – not her parents, not any other relatives of her. Now she officially was Victoria Lucretia No-Name, née Goyle. Unworthy, they had called her, when she hadn't received a Hogwarts Acceptance Letter when she was eleven.

Elisabeth's story was similar. Once Elisabeth Aurora Parkinson, now just Lisa, she too had been disowned when the suspicions of her being a squib were confirmed when her Hogwarts Acceptance Letter never arrived.

"Yes, deal. Hope you'll hold it this time for more than three hours, Vic."

The two smiled to each other. "Anyway, are we gonna check out that noise, Lisa?"  
Lisa nodded. "Sure we do."

The two girls ran in de direction of the noise they had heard not long before. They manoeuvred easily through the maze of dead-ended alleys until they had reached the place from where the noise had originated – two alleyways left of the one the girls had been in.

They immediately noticed the fallen bin and saw something else laying on the ground in the distance.

"What's that?" Vicky whispered to Lisa, a scared note in her voice.

"Don't know. Guess we should check, no?" The older girl replied.

Vicky shivered but nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

It was at that moment that Harry tried to roll over so that he could get back to his feet. He managed to roll over for a moment but fell back almost immediately. He moaned slightly as he hurt his broken wrist yet again. In his pain, he was unable to see anything, and so he had kept his eyes firmly shut. He did not notice his surroundings at all anymore – he was straddling the fence between consciousness and unconsciousness. Unknown to him, the two girls slowly neared him, scared by every movement he made.

When Lisa and Vicky came closer to the heap they saw lying on the ground, they noticed it was moving slightly, trembling and rolling.

"It's moving…" Lisa whispered softly, stating the obvious. "What is it?"

Vicky, who had the better eyes of the two, stared at whatever it was before them. "I am not sure…" she whispered back, "but it looks like a kid."

Lisa turned her head to the girl next to her. "A child? What in Merlin's name would a child be doing here?"

Vicky raised her eyebrow. "The same thing we do, Lisa? It probably was either kicked out or ran away. Don't think it'll hurt us, though – seems to be in a bad condition. Can't even get to their feet."

Lisa walked closer to the kid, and shivered at the sight she saw. A little boy, fighting unconsciousness, lay in a foetal position before her. His left wrist was bended in a direction normally impossible, his skin and clothes bore traces of blood and wherever his skin was exposed, bruises, gashes and scars were to be seen. A pair of glasses, as battered as the boy himself, had fallen off his face onto the ground. Trash – probably from the bin – was splattered over him, even though the boy did not seem to be aware of anything. He shivered and quivered, his breath was irregular and tears, caused by pain, streamed down his face, mixing with both the dry and the fresh blood traces.

Lisa cursed loudly, a long string of both muggle and wizard curses. Vicky almost _ran_ towards Lisa. "What's wrong, Lisa?!" She yelled, then looked at the child before them. "Goddamnit… What the hell has happened to him? Who is sick enough to hurt a small child like _that_?"

Vicky shivered, then threw up. Tears ran down her face – ran down both Vicky's and Lisa's faces, actually.

"I don't know, Vic, I really don't. He needs our help, but how? How? _HOW?_ We cannot do anything._"_

Vicky nodded. "We can't bring him to a hospital, and the witches and wizards don't want anything to do with us." She waited for a moment. "We don't even know if this boy is muggle or wizard – what do you think would happen if we'd bring a muggle into the Wizarding World, Lisa?"

"Nothing good, that's sure. So both hospitals and St. Mungo's are not doable. Can we ask anyone else who could heal this child?"

Vicky hesitated. "There's Tobias, Liz. We could try."

Lisa sighed. "If he's still around. You know as well as I do that he plans to rejoin the pack and leave England, Vic."

Vicky sighed. "I know, Liz, I know… But what else can we do? He's our only hope – you know that he had almost finished his Medi-Wizard training when they got him, and he got kicked out for that. Whether the boy is wizard or muggle, he'd help. He understands, after all. He's as much expelled by society as we are."

Lisa nodded. "True, but we don't even know if he is around anymore. Might still be there, but he could just as well have left to rejoin the pack in Germany, you know."

"Yes, I know. But we have to try. If he's still here in London, he can safe the boy. After the horrors my relatives did during last war, I will never leave a child, muggle or wizard, behind to die, even if I do not know them, if I can do anything to safe them."

The child was unaware of the discussion going on only a few feet away from him. He could not even move anymore, or think. He had lost consciousness again, and if nothing would happen, the next thing the abused, starved little boy would lose, was his life. His body had lost too much blood already, and with his poor health and injuries added, it was only his magic that was keeping him alive.

"I know, Vic. I feel the same… but what if he is not there? What if Tobias has left already?" A tear leaked down the girl's face as she saw the boy lying near her, clearly beaten down. She remembered her cruel family all too well. When they started fearing the girl had no magic, they had started beating her 'to provoke accidental magic', although Lisa assumed it was more for being unworthy and a disgrace of the family name.

Despite this, and despite the cruelty of her family, she had never been treated like this little boy lying at her feet. Her family might have hated her, but never had they trashed her like this boy was trashed. Never had they brought her on the verge of losing her life – at least not until that day they kicked her out of her home and out of the family.

"I don't know, Liz, I really do not know. I hope he is there, I really hope it."

Both girls nodded.

"Vic, go to Tobias, get him here if he's still around, I'll stay with the boy and make sure that no one else will bother him. Use that portkey he gave you, we have no time for running through London's alleys."

"Yeah, Liz. I'll be back as soon as I can." She held her hand on a necklace she wore – a silver cord with a pendant in the shape of a wolf's head, whispered a short phrase to activate the portkey it actually was. "_I'll be_ _howling with the pack._"

At that moment the portkey activated and the girl disappeared. She reappeared again in a different alley, not far from where Tobias lived – if he still was around. She looked around her, and saw no one that could have possibly seen her. She sprinted towards the backdoor of the squatted building Tobias lived in. Both she and Lisa had slept there sometimes, when they couldn't find a place for the night. It had been squatted illegally, by the Pack, before they had left for Germany. At that moment Tobias had been injured heavily, and so he couldn't go with them. He was now healed and would soon leave London to rejoin the Pack.

Back in the alley Vicky had just left, Lisa sat down on the ground, her knees up, her head on one of them, and she cried. Tears leaked down her face as she remembered the horrors she had seen before her family kicked her out almost four years ago, and during the past years here on the streets of London.

She knocked loudly on the door. It took a while for anyone to reply, but about a minute, perhaps two minutes later, Vicky heard Tobias' voice.

"Yes, who is there?" While it seemed an innocent question, Vicky knew that if you did not give him the right answer, he would not open the door for you. What the right password was, depended on who you were, and why you were there, but a part of it was the same for everyone.

"Victory howls with the Pack." Vicky waited a moment. "The Queen and Victory will be requiring the Lone Wolf tonight."

Immediately the door went open. "Vicky. Come in. What can I do for you? Where is Lisa?"

The girl stepped through the door, entering the building, explaining the problem. "We found a child on the streets in the Pack's district. A little boy."

"Yes? What was he doing out there?"

The girl shrugged. "We don't know. He's injured badly, and we think he'll die soon if no one helps him. Tobias, can you please help us? I do not want to see another child die." She pleaded the man to help her. Due to her family, she had seen death long before she should have, and she would never again allow an innocent to die if she could prevent it.

Tobias looked at the girl. "How bad?" he simply asked.

The girl shuddered when she thought of the heavily injured boy she had left Lisa with.

"Really bad. Irregular breathing, unconscious, broken wrist, clearly malnourished, abused. Wounds, scars and bruises over most of his blood-covered body. Lisa is with him."

Tobias cursed loudly. "Where?"

"South-West part of the Pack's District, close to the Border, ain't far from Queen's Alley. It's the parallel alley eastwards." She used Lisa's codename, because that was the way the place was known to the Pack. Since about a year it was her Alley too, but the name had stayed the same.

Tobias nodded. "Can find it. Stay here, prepare a bed for the kid. Will have to take him here, I think. Lisa still has her portkey?"

Vicky nodded. "She has. Will you Apparate to Queen's Alley, or do you wanna use my portkey?"

"The portkey would be good – don't want to use too much of my magical reserves, might need them."

Silently, Vicky took off her necklace and handed it to Tobias. She turned around to go and prepare a bed for the small kid when she heard him whisper the phrase she knew so well.

"_Queen of London's Streets._" It activated the portkey in the other direction, taking the bearer to Queen's Alley. It was a two-way portkey, very useful when you needed a quick escape. And while a Squib could not apparate, they could use a portkey. Where Apparition used energy from one's Magical Core, a portkey gathered the needed energy, the magic, from it's surroundings. And even in Muggle areas, the earth and sky contained magic. In fact, even a Muggle could use a portkey on their own, if they wanted, while no Muggle would ever be able to Apparate alone.

While Vicky went upside to prepare a bed for the boy, Tobias reappeared in Queen's Alley, and headed immediately in the direction of the alley Lisa and Vicky had found the child in. He ran and quickly found the place Victory had told him of.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the alley was Lisa sitting with her head on her knees and crying. It shocked him. Lisa – Queen – was one of the strongest people he knew of, psychically. Why had this shocked her, hurt her so much? She never cried.

"Queen?" he yelled through the alley. Immediately the girl looked up and wiped her eyes, not wanting to look weak.

"Tobias? Vicky found you?"

He walked towards her and nodded. "She did. She's at the Wolf's Nest, preparing a bed for the boy she told me you two found."

Lisa shuddered. "We found a boy, yes." She took a deep breath. "Why can people be so cruel to others? I don't understand. He's just a child – an innocent. He cannot have done anything to warrant this…" She sobbed softly. The man looked at her, then noticed the boy lying a few feet away from her.

"That's the boy?" He asked. She nodded. He carefully walked towards the child and blanched when he saw him, and cursed loudly.

"By Morgana, what have they _done_ to him?" He shuddered. "Queen, take your portkey, go to the Wolf's Nest, tell Victory that I'm coming. I'll be there soon, as soon as I have made sure that I will not injury him by portkey travel," as he noticed she was looking strangely at him, he added "I have Vicky's portkey."

The girl nodded. "Yes, Tobias." She whispered the key phrase and disappeared.

Tobias knelt down next to the boy and looked at him. With a monitor spell, he checked, but there didn't seem to be any _spell-_damage. He had no time for other checks – this boy needed to get to a sterile location as soon as possible.

Because there was no spell-damage, it was safe for the boy to travel by portkey. He carefully took the boy in his arms, trying to hurt him as little as possible, then whispered.

"_I'll be howling with the pack."_


	3. Chapter 2: Helping and Healing

**Summary: **Under-fed, suffering from malnutrition and injuries, abused and unloved, Harry's had enough. When Vernon beats Harry once again, he runs away. By wishing and accidental magic, he apparates all the way to the streets London at the age of six. He ends up in the care of two young squibs, kicked out by their pureblood families. Later on some other Squibs and Muggleborns are added to the pack. Harry will not be anything like Dumbles had imagined when he dropped Harry at the Dursleys!

**Warnings:  
**Abuse  
Violence**  
**Not-Growing-Up-with-the-Dursleys!Harry  
Runaway!Harry fic  
Independant!Harry  
Grey/Darkish!Harry  
Non-puppet!Harry  
Metamorphmagus!Harry  
Street!Harry - Manipulative-Dumbledore – AU

**Rating: **M for (future) language and violence. Some sexual content (later on). Nothing _graphic_, though.

**Pairing: **None yet. Future Pairing not yet decided on. Slash or Het not yet decided.

**Beta: **Still none. Anyway, if someone wants to beta, drop me a message. Otherwise I'll search for one someday.

**Note: **English is only my second language. I am certain I have made or will make some mistakes and stupid errors _somewhere_. Feel free to point them out so I can change them - just don't troll and/or flame, 'kay? I, like almost everyone, am fond of reviews. I prefer (constructive) critic though. While it is nice to hear someone loves the story, I'd still like to know what I can improve to make it better. While it's a bit less nice to hear someone hates my story, I still prefer to know _why_ people hate it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, nor claim any kind of ownership on the original material, referenced in this work. I do not expect, nor will accept any payment or compensation for this work, as it is being done in the nature of _fan_fiction. Anything you recognize is bound to be Rowling's work or coincidence with fanfiction someone else wrote. I have, to my knowledge, not borrowed/'stolen' plotlines or characters from other fanfic authors. If I knowingly borrow something, I will place a note somewhere - either in the disclaimer or in an Author's Note. It is of course always possible that something I write has similarities to other fanfics, for _nearly _everything possible within this fandom has already been written at least once.

**A/N: Sorry for everyone that has been waiting for an update. I have been extremely busy and shit has basically been raining down here for quite some time. I have not found much time to write anything except for some minor drabbles, which have been uploaded.** EDIT: Thank you, Bob, for pointing out my mistake - I accidentally called Dudley Harry's nephew instead of cousin. Probably because both are called 'neef/neefje' in Dutch and nephew looks closer to that. Will check through the first chapters and correct it.  
-

**Chapter 2 – Helping and Healing**

Only moments after the portkey had activated, Tobias reappeared near his home, the little boy still unconscious in his arms. He weighed so little that Tobias suspected the boy hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. He had been shocked to see how skinny the child was, how little he weighed. Big bruises had formed on his body, some in the shape of a hand – a big hand, clearly of an adult – _his father, perhaps? His mother? His guardian?_ Tobias wondered, for it was clear that the kid had been abused. _Had he been dumped in that alley to… to die? Had he been dumped there by the same person that had hurt this little boy? _

For if the two girls had not found him, had not warned him immediately afterwards, the kid would most likely _have_ died. Either that, or found by people with malicious intent. Had he not been found, his chances of survival would have been close to null and void.

No, if the Queen and Victory had not found the boy, if the had not contacted him, if he had rejoined his Pack already, the boy _would_ have died.

Still, the boy's survival was not quite certain yet. He was not certain how bad the child had been injured, but if it was as bad as he supposed… then Tobias surely hoped the boy was magical, because they would need all help they could get, and the body of a wizard was more likely to be able to tolerate and support the magic he would have to use to heal the boy.

Tobias could only hope and pray that he could save this child – too many innocents, children, had died already, in the Wizarding War where he had gotten bitten. Too many children had died already, kicked out by their parents, unwanted because they had no magic, because they were _Squibs_. Too many children had died, kicked out for _having _magic, for being Muggleborn witches and wizards. Too many, Muggle, squib or wizard, had been abused and left to die. Too many had suffered on the streets, in the orphanages, _in their own homes_, by the hands of their parents or guardians, by the hands of those _responsible for them_.

He knew of the prejudice many of those children had faced, the prejudice of both worlds, the difficulty to be part of one, let alone both. He had seen many horrors in the war, and even more horrors on the streets – life on the streets was as much of a war, day after day, as the War against the Dark Lord Voldemort had been.

He whispered the phrase he knew the one at the back-door was waiting for, to open the door and let him and the child inside, to help him.

"_The Lone Wolf has arrived at Queen's and Victory's request,_" he spoke, softly but clearly, and he knew that he had been heard.

Tobias had always wanted to help people, to save them. He had been training and so close to reaching his goal – becoming one of St. Mungo's Medi-Wizards – when he had the misfortune to meet Fenrir Greyback. Because too many were injured every day, and because too many of St. Mungo's Healers and Medi-Wizards had died in the War already, even those not fully trained were needed to Heal the injured – sometimes inside the building of St. Mungo's, sometimes on the field. During one of those cases, it had been that Greyback bit him. He remembered. It had been in February, 1981, about half a year before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated at the hands of a small child - Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Son of James Potter and Lily Potter, née Evans.

It had been the Eighteenth of February when the Ministry Aurors had suffered great losses near the Tower Bridge – it had been a huge mess, Aurors and Muggles had been slaughtered down equally. So all Medi-Witches and Medi-Wizards, as well as Healers that St. Mungo's could miss at that moment, were sent out to the field – including just about everyone in training. The battle had still been raging when they had arrived. Tobias had seen much death that day, and that was another reason that night would forever plague his dreams. His older sister, Michelle, had been amongst the Aurors killed that night. His parents had died earlier in the war, as had his young brother, and so it became that he was the last one left. Many of those he had known at Hogwarts – as friends or even just by name or appearance – had died, on both Sides of the battle. More than one of the Medi-Witches and Medi-Wizards he had been in training with saw death that night – or worse. Five had been killed, another three maimed and crippled for life. Two Healers he knew well, as well as others he had not known had been captured by You-Know-Who's troops, his _Death Eaters_, that night. He had fallen victim to Fenrir Greyback, and had been lucky to survive. The memories from the War, but especially _that _night still haunted his dreams. The prejudiced Wizarding World had made it unable for him to ever finish his training and he suddenly had lost everything he had left – the last member of his family, his friends, his job and dream. Suddenly he had been alone on the streets, as the son of a Muggleborn and a Half-blood, both without much money. He had nothing left. _Nothing_.

Lisa opened the door as soon as Tobias spoke the phrase, and gestured Tobias in.

"Vicky had prepared the Guest Bedroom at this floor." Tobias nodded, carefully putting the boy on a nearby table.

"Lisa, help me please. I'll float the boy carefully over to the room – I don't want to cause any more injuries, he has quite a few already."

Lisa nodded. "Of course, Tobias. What can I do?"

Lisa sometimes remembered him of people he had known, before the war, during the war. There had been a Healer at St. Mungo's – also gone since the February Tower Bridge Raid – that had been just like Lisa. The same smile, same high intelligence, always willing to help the injured. Mira Jacklin. She had been the first Healer captured that night, but certainly not the last.

After that fatal day, the war had raged on for only half a year more, but it had become even crueller, even fouler, and so much blood had been spilt those days. During the war's last months, he had been helping smaller groups that were trying to survive – Muggleborns trying to escape back to the Muggle World, at least until the war was over. Smaller, subversive groups not allied directly with Dumbledore – the old man had never liked him, and he had never liked Dumbles either. He had helped the Light Side as much as he could during the war, but always off the screen, because many wizards – and especially those in positions of influence – were prejudiced, bigoted individuals. They would declare him _Dark_, and a danger because of his… disease.

"Could you please make sure that all _possibly_ needed potions are ready for use?"

The girl agreed. "The second shelf… third one too, Tob?" she asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

Tobias nodded gravely. "I might need them today."

Lisa shivered but went to the potions cabinet almost immediately to get all needed potions.

It had been during the last days of the War that Tobias had met with a few more lycanthropes, all trying to escape the prejudice. They had formed a Pack, and their base had been in the Muggle World, their work, their deeds on both sides, Muggle and Magical.

After the Dark Lord had fallen, they had settled in the Muggle world, helping those that were exiles of society, whether Muggle society or Wizard – as long as those they helped were open-minded. Despite the fact that the war was over, they still worked in secret, they still used their codes and names, because if it kept them safe in war, it would not hurt them in peace either. The Pack's members consisted of only werewolves, but those they helped as well as those associated with the Pack were not – there _were_ werewolves they helped, of course, but also Squibs and Muggleborns kicked out of their homes, a couple of vampires, witches and wizards with strange or feared gifts, abused kids – Muggle and Wizard.

They helped the kids living on the streets. They helped those that wanted their help, those that accepted it. The Pack consisted of both Magical and 'Muggle' wolves – Squibs and Muggles bitten by werewolves – and they always respected and helped each other. Sure, there were struggles from time to time, but most of them had seen the horrors of war, and those that had not, had seen the horrors of the street. They were the Pack. Even now, almost five years after the war, they still were one. One Pack. And he would soon rejoin the Pack. _His_ Pack.

"**Levicorpus.**" With a small flick of his wand, Tobias floated the boy from the table over to the guestroom Vicky had prepared for him. Vicky nodded as soon as she saw him. Once the kid was on the bed, she looked him in the eye.

"How bad is it, To?"

He waited for a moment. "I have only done a basic monitor spell, to check him for spell damage, so that if that had been the case, I could make sure that he would not be injured by the portkey travel. He has no spell damage, as far as I could see. Despite this, he is injured badly. I need to use more monitor spells to see _how_ bad."

Vicky nodded, a tear in her eye. She had seen how fragile the boy looked. Yes, he was most certainly in a bad shape.

"Vicky, do you have pen and paper ready?" The girl nodded. "Yes. Here next to me."

Tobias nodded as well. "Very well. Please sit down. I want you to write down everything I say, because I cannot do the spell and write it down at the same time."

He thought for a moment. "Unless… Yes… There _might _be a Dicta-Quill lying around. I guess I could try. **Accio Dicta-Quill**_**.**_" A few moments later a quill flew into the room. Tobias grabbed it from the air and smiled. "I guess you won't have to write it all down. Just keep a look at it to see if it writes down what I say, please?"

Vicky nodded. "Of course."`

It was at that moment that Lisa entered with the potions.

"Put them on that table, please," Tobias said, pointing to a table within his reach.

"I'll be using a couple of monitoring spells on him, will probably take quite a while. Please help Vicky check the notes that Dicta-Quill makes, please."

Lisa nodded. "Of course, no problem, Tobias." She put the potions on the table, then took another chair so that she could sit next to Vicky.

With a long, intricate wave, Tobias cast the first monitor charm. In a monotone voice he repeated that which he saw.

"Current injuries." He waited a moment, and the girls nodded to show that the Dicta-Quill wrote down exactly what he had said.

"Left arm. Radius bone fractured at two places. Sliver of the boy's left radius bone pierced a minor vein. Bruises all over his body. Several bones bruised. Several cuts and scrapes across his torso and limbs, most shallow. None hit major veins. Heavy blood loss. Dangerously malnourished. Suffers from a concussion. Unconscious."

He ended the monitor charm to start another.

"No recent spell damage recorded. Traces of magic found in his blood and body."

Immediately a new spell followed. "I see strong traces of protective magic around him. Unable to define from when they are, but the original spell seems to be at least five years old. I see a strange spell on him, strong. Unable to define what it is. It does not seem to be harmful _in nature_, but it may be harming the child despite of that. I see traces, old, very faint, of extremely harmful magic, cast with malicious intent. I do not know if it still harms the child."

He cast yet another monitor charm, then cursed loudly.

"Injuries from the past three years. It seems this boy has been close to dead on more than one occasion. All injuries seem to be non-magical. He has broken multiple bones in the past. His growth seems to be underdeveloped due to a bad case of malnutrition. He seems to have been hit on multiple occasions. His eyes are really bad – he is almost blind without his glasses. His body bears many scars. I think we can safely conclude that this kid has been abused for quite some time."

Vicky shivered as she heard the list of injuries, current and past, go on and on.

"Has he… has he been abused sexually as well, Tobias?" Vicky whispered.

Tobias locked his eyes with Vicky. "I fear he might have been, but if so, he does not seem to have been... entered, at the least."

Both girls cursed loudly as they heard it was indeed possible and perhaps even likely, tears in their eyes as they saw the small child lying so close to them.

"Is he magical, Tobias? His injuries are all physical, not magical, which indicates that he has been living with Muggles, but then why does he have all those traces of magic on him?"

Tobias nodded. "Yes, I believe he is magical. I agree, Lisa, he has most likely lived with Muggles, so I don't know what to make of those traces either. We can find out after we have healed him."

With those words, he picked up the notes made by the Dicta-Quill, put them next to him, and started casting healing spell after healing spell, sometimes giving the boy potions as well. He also made sure to clean all filth and blood off the boy, for they did not want the wounds to infect.

The potions he gave the boy were mostly painkillers, Nutrition Potions and Blood-Replenishing Potions, although some were meant to deal with the damage done to his body. After about three hours, Tobias stopped.

"He is in a healing coma now. I cannot do anything more for him until he pulls through it. I am exhausted, and I _need_ some rest. Vicky, Lisa, can you watch him and warn me as soon as he wakes up, or if something else unexpected happens? Give him one dose of that potion," he gestured to one he had set apart on the table, "every two hours."

The girls nodded. "Of course. How long will he be out, To?"

The wolf waited a moment. "I cannot tell. He might wake up in a few hours, it might take days or even weeks…" _Or he might not wake up at all_, they all thought.

The girls nodded. "There will always be at least one of us here to watch him as long as you are asleep."

Tobias smiled. "Thank you, girls." With those words he turned around and walked towards his bedroom, not even bothering to change his clothes, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately. He had exhausted himself – physically, psychically, magically. He needed the sleep. It was only a few days from the next full moon, and he did not want to have to change when he was exhausted.

Back in the guest room, the two girls talked quietly, shocked by what they had heard and seen.

"How could _anyone_ do that to a child? I don't understand, I don't understand. Why?" Vicky cursed and cried at the same time. "Why would anyone want to hurt a little child like this. How old can he be? Five maybe? Six at highest? No child, no innocent deserves this. For what could he have done to warrant this? Who _is_ he?"

Lisa hugged Vicky. She knew this remembered the girl she now saw as a younger sister of the cruelties she had witnessed during the last days of the war. That it remembered her of the deeds committed by the man once her father. A servant of Voldemort, who had pleaded innocence for he had been "under the influence of the Imperius". As if. The man had been guilty, and so had many others that walked free. Nott. Malfoy. Her _own_ father. Many, many others. So few real Death Eaters had ended up in Azkaban, so many walked around freely instead.

The two girls sat like that for more than an hour, when Vicky stood up.

"I'll go to the kitchen and make us some food. Anything you want, Lisa?"

The girl shook her head. "Not really. I still feel sick. But I agree, I need to eat as well. Perhaps just some bread, then?"

The girl nodded. "That's fine. I'll be right back."

During the following hours, there was at least one of them near the boy at all times. Often they both were there, but sometimes one of the two got up to stretch their legs, to do something to take their thoughts off the boy, even if only for a moment. Finally, perhaps eight hours later, Tobias walked down the stairs to the floor they were on.

"He has not yet awoken?" was all he asked.

"No, not yet." Lisa answered. "Vicky is taking a nap at the moment."

Tobias nodded. "I guess that until the boy is fully healed, he'll have to stay here. Hopefully we can find out who he is, perhaps help him. I guess we will need to prepare an actual room for the child. I'll be upstairs for a bit, preparing a room. Will be back soon enough. Once I am back, I think it would be best that you'll catch some sleep as well, it's close to midnight already and I know how difficult this has been for you.

Lisa smiled thankfully. "Yes, Tobias, that would be great. I am quite tired. I think Vicky will be up in an hour, maybe two. I'll go sleep when you're back."

Tobias came back down the stairs perhaps ten minutes. "I'm done, will be here for some time. Go get some sleep, dear, I can see you're tired."

It stayed that way for the next few days – the three of them taking turns, making sure at least one of them, most often two, were awake and ready when the boy woke up.

It was difficult when the full moon was there. Tobias locked himself in the basement, making sure he could not hurt either of the girls or the little boy. Everyone was glad when that day had come and passed, and while they all hoped for the boy to wake up as soon as possible, they were glad he was still out.

It was two days after the full moon that the boy woke up for the first time, confused and almost in panic, but he fell asleep again not long after that. Later that day the boy woke up again, looking around in what seemed to be utmost surprise, and then noticed the man sitting in the corner, looking at the boy.


End file.
